


Deadpool Meets Star Trek

by TwiceBakedPotato



Category: Deadpool (2016), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceBakedPotato/pseuds/TwiceBakedPotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deadpool and company ends up in a weird time bubble, and Wade ends up on the Enterprise. </p><p>[Basically, the Star Trek - Deadpool crossover that happened because I was bored today and trapped inside, and someone on Tumblr sent me an ask, and I couldn't help myself. Love and kisses!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadpool Meets Star Trek

                How it happened, Wade could not be sure. One moment, he was in the middle of an epic fight that would make the special effects gurus of Industrial Light and Magic cream their pants, and the next he was on the same street at night, still bleeding and missing his left pinky finger. Only, the burning cars, collapsed building, dismembered bodies, howls of pain and delicious, delicious agony were not there. Or, they weren’t burning or collapsed with regard to the buildings and cars.

                “What the shit is this?” He squinted, the white eyes of his mask narrowing as he slowly turned around, recognizing everything about his surroundings except the previous state of complete destruction. And while, yes, the property damaged had been MONUMENTAL (aka _fucking awesome_ ), seeing everything completely whole and without blemish was extremely disconcerting, even for someone with slight (extreme) problems with his memory. He shouted, “Nathan! Where the fuck are you, you giant metal dick!”

                 “Wade!” came a loud-angry shout from his typically quiet-angry teenage mutant negasonic friend.

                Wade turned toward the voice, seeing the Negasonic Teenage Warhead (known to her friends as something cute like maybe Lindsey or Doris or maybe even Sonya [totally Sonya], but to Wade as the most badass mutant _ever_ ) appear out of an alley, looking just as confused as Wade felt. And really, it was kind of a comfort seeing the way her adorable face knit into a grimace like a small angry cat.

                “Over here, child,” Wade said as he sheathed his katana.

                She scowled at him. “What the fuck just happened?”

                “I was wondering the same thing.” He pointed down the street at the lumbering giant of metal and Russian-flavored hope. “Looks like we’re not alone. (Thank god, I don’t want to have to baby sit).”

                “You said that out loud, asshole,” Negasonic sneered. She shouted down the street at Colossus, “What the fuck’s going on?”

                “Language!” he corrected as he approached. “I am quite concerned about the influence Deadpool is having on your vocabulary, Miss Phimister.”

                “Phimister?” Wade said, looking at her.

                “Shut it,” she snapped. Then to Colossus, “Where are we? Did Cable do this?”

                “I do not believe so,” Colossus answered, looking grim. “I have tried to contact him on communicator, and nothing. But it is no matter. Surely we can go to mansion, get answers.”

                Wade groaned. “Dude, it’s like you’ve never even _read_ a comic book before. Obviously, we’re in some kind of alternate dimension. If you would have read the tags, you would know that.”

                Negasonic rolled her eyes and sighed. “Not this crazy shit again.”

                “Just because you are not aware of the audience does not mean they are not reading,” Wade said. Then he smiled at the reader, winked, and whispered, “I hope you enjoyed that unicorn scene this morning, because I did.”

                “Deadpool, please,” Colossus groaned. “We need to keep focused on problem at hand.”

                “Oh, I know!” Wade said as he whipped his phone out of a pouch. “I’ll make a call, except… Yeah. This is an alternate universe, so there’s no goddamn service. Not to mention there’s that butt-fucking-ugly tower with a big glowing neon ‘Stark’ on the side. I don’t recall that being in our New York. Obviously, Winterfell won the war.”

                Colossus’ face scrunched. “What is this ‘Winterfell’?”

                “Game of Thrones?” Wade said and waited for recognition to dawn. “Nothing?”

                Negasonic rolled her eyes, and said, “So what do we do now?”

                “We find Cable,” Colossus answered, and by the time the last syllable left his metal mouth, the world had shifted again.

                With this shift, Cable appeared in all of his shiny glory. He had a distinctive look of being monumentally pissed off as he said, “Something’s not right here.”

                “No shit, Sherlock,” Wade shouted. “Any ideas? Suggestions? Because I think we’re on the fucking moon right now.”

                All around them was blank, barren land. A desert with no hint of a human population. Cable’s face was impassive. Pissed, but that was pretty much his normal expression. If they fucker ever smiled, it would probably break his face.

                “This is still Earth, just not our Earth,” Cable said, squinting his glowing eye.

                Negasonic rolled her eyes. “See, this is why no one wants to work with you two douchebags. Shit like this always happens.”

                “Language, Negasonic,” Colossus said, his patience clearly at its limit.

                “Something is happening to the timestream locally,” Cable said. His frown deepened. “It’s almost like we’re in a bubble of time. I can almost feel something tugging at us.”

                The world shifted again. And again.

                “I’m going to be sick,” Negasonic said, leaning against Colossus for support. “Can we please hurry this up?”

                Cable glared at her a moment and said, “There is something creating a large energetic field. It is almost like Celestial technology. Like—.”

                “What the fuck!” Wade gasped. Everyone looked at him and could see that he was dissolving into a bright golden light even as the world around shifted yet again. There was a shrill sound in the air, musical but close to painful as he watched his atoms fall apart.

                Then Wade was standing in a room on a glowing circle under bright flaring lights. The next thing he noticed was a lack of Cable, Colossus, and Negasonic. The third thing was the two people, one a skinny ginger who looked curiously like Simon Pegg and the other a short green…something. Both wore red shirts, and both looked like someone Wade needed to stab.

                His eyes narrowed as he swept his katana off his back and fell into a fighting stance. He shouted, “Who the fuck are you?”

                The guys in the redshirts looked a little panicked.

                “Are you fucking deaf?” he shouted, his white eyes narrowing. “Where the fuck am I?”

                “Now this is unexpected,” the ginger said, his voice colored by a thick Scottish accent.

                The little guy just shrugged.

                “Unexpected kind of describes my entire day,” Wade said as he took a step closer.

               “Now hold on, you,” the ginger said, his hand scrambling over the buttons on some sort of control panel. “I’m just going to reverse the beam and—.”

               A katana under his chin cut off his sentence and froze him in his tracks. Wade had a dangerous edge to his voice as he growled, “I will gut you from teeth to testicles if you don’t tell me where I am right fucking now.”

               A calm voice from behind said, “Is there a problem, Mr. Scott?”

               Mr. Scott—the ginger—looked toward the voice, and Wade spun around to attack. The newcomer, a tall, thin man with pointed ears that Wade would have giggled about had he encountered him otherwise, reacted fast to Wade’s attack, spinning out of the way and throwing him off balance. Wade recovered and whirled around, throwing a dagger as he did. It connected solidly to the blue-shirted elf, but the elf gripped his neck in the same moment.

                A sharp pain shot through Wade’s entire body and he felt consciousness leave him in a white-hot instant.

* * *

 

                Montgomery Scott was pretty sure Spock was going to kill him, but he had no choice but to stand in sick bay and explain that, no, it wasn’t really his fault that the transporter malfunctioned. Yes, he was testing out a new intermix equation, and yes, the transporter did potentially bring a malformed madman armed to the teeth through a teensy little dimensional rift. But he tried his best to keep the aforementioned madman from stabbing anyone, and in his defense, Spock did get in the way of the crazy bastard’s katana.

                The madman in question was currently restrained and sedated on one of the nearby biobeds. As Spock so succinctly pointed out, he was a truly fascinating specimen. The mask he wore had a very primitive form of bioreactivity, the eyes moving with the muscles of the man’s very scarred face. His whole body was badly scarred, and after a few tests, McCoy determined that he had a very malignant form of cancer that seemed to have affected every part of him. Considering the tumors in his brain, it was no wonder he was so violent.

                At the moment, Dr. M’Benga was analyzing the physiology of their unknown patient while McCoy attended to Mr. Spock, who was riding the thin line between Vulcan emotional restraint and human fury.

                “Mr. Scott, you were unauthorized to make any adjustments to the transporter’s intermix,” Spock said as Dr. McCoy worked to extract what appeared to be a knife with a cartoonish kitten’s head on a pink handle from his side. Though the good doctor had no doubt pumped him full of pain suppressants, Spock visibly winced when the knife was removed.

                “The captain said that I could do a few tests while we were in orbit,” Scotty said, knowing that his protest was pretty feeble in the face of both Spock and Bones.

                Dr. McCoy glared at him, and growled out, “If you had the brains god gave an ox, I wouldn’t have half of engineering in my office every damn day.”

                “That is an over exaggeration, Doctor,” Spock said flatly.

                McCoy gave him another shot with the hypo, getting an agitated glare in return. “You’re no better, you green-blooded hobgoblin. Every damned away mission, you come back with some new alien disease or shrapnel or covered in some kind of sex pollen, and I have to patch you up.”

                Spock’s face was flat, but the subtle quirk of the corner of his mouth hinted at his amusement. “Leonard, I believe—.”

                “Do you realize I have discovered vaccines for more diseases during this mission than most doctors encounter in a lifetime?” McCoy said, getting a good steam behind a rant. “All because you find something fascinating.”

                “If you two need to be alone, I’ll just leave,” Scotty said, backing towards the door.

                A raspy voice across the sickbay said, “Did someone say sex pollen?”

                “It seems your other patient is awake, Doctor,” Spock said looking as annoyed as the Vulcan could manage. He stood from the biobed and walked with the doctor to the bedside of their “guest”.

                “I always thought sex pollen was some sort of fan-fiction trope or some shit like that,” he said, looking up at the doctor and his Vulcan companion. “Is that why I’m strapped down? Is this some kind of sex dungeon? If so, my safeword is Bubbleyum and I’m not into watersports.”

                “This is not a sex dungeon,” McCoy said. “This is the sickbay of the Starship Enterprise, where you are currently my patient.”

                “Do you tie up all your patients? If so, you are pretty much matching the stereotype I have in my head of the medical profession.” Though his voice was lighthearted, his vital signs indicated an influx of adrenaline and cortisol, as well as elevated heartrate and respiration.

                McCoy said, “You attacked this ship’s First Officer without provocation. The restraints are for our protection.”

                “That’s open to debate, considering I’ve basically been kidnapped,” he said. “I’d call that provocation.”

                “Surprisingly logical assessment from such a primitive human,” Spock said.

                The man’s brow scrunched, and he said, “Fuck off, pointy.”

                “What is your name, son?” McCoy asked.

                “Go fuck yourself, doc,” he answered.

                Dr. M’Benga said, “I found a stack of identical cards in one of his pockets identifying him as Wade “Deadpool” Wilson.”

                He handed one to Spock, who studied it a moment before saying, “I shall check the records for any information on this…” Spock raised an eyebrow. “This establishment provocateur.”

* * *

 

                “So let me get this straight…” Captain James T. Kirk was officially tired of everyone’s shit. After listening to Bones, Spock, and Scotty’s reports and assessments of their guest in sickbay, he really wanted a drink. “You believe that there is a time travelling mercenary on my ship.”

                “It is a certainty,” Spock said. “I found Wade W. Wilson, also known as Deadpool, in the Earth Archives. His signature was a red and black suit and was known to be quite proficient with bladed weapons. During the Eugenics Wars, he partnered with a super-human named Nathan Summers to combat the being known as Stryfe, one of the greatest tyrants from that era.”

                Jim rubbed his temples, and said, “I’m still unclear as to how or why he is here.”

                Scotty shrugged. “I think I may have inverted the quantum—.”

                “No,” Jim said. “I don’t need the technical specifications. I need you to figure out how to get this man back to his own time. Now. Immediately.”

                “Aye-aye, sir,” Scotty said, and promptly left the command deck.

                The captain stood and said, “I want to meet this man.”

* * *

 

                By the time the Jim, McCoy, and Spock arrived in sickbay, Wade was out of his medically induced nap and a little groggy. It took him a moment to realize that he was no longer restrained. His first impulse was to look for a weapon, but this was not like any hospital he’d ever been in. There were no scalpels or surgical saws. Nothing useful at all. Thus, he was seated on the side of his bed picking at the funky white tunic they dressed him in while he was unconscious.

                He looked up at the trio who entered and asked, “Is this the part where it gets kinky?”

                Jim smirked. “This isn’t that kind of ship.”

                “So I’ve heard,” Wade said. “People are talking about sex pollen and shit, and I’m sitting here wondering why I haven’t been roofied. Who the fuck are you, by the way?”

                Jim’s eyebrows went up and he answered, “I’m the captain, James Kirk. And you are Wade Wilson, yes?”

                “I guess my reputation proceeds me,” Wade said, unimpressed. “Why am I here?”

                “There was apparently a _malfunction_ with our transporter, and you were brought here,” Jim explained. “Right now, our chief engineer is working to reverse the beam, and we’ll get you back where you belong soon.”

                “What about my friends?” Wade demanded.

                “You were the only one who came through the transporter,” Jim said.

                Now Wade was getting angry again. “Look, I don’t give a fuck if I’m the only one who’s actually here, you need to figure out where the fuck Negasonic is, or I’m going to introduce my foot to your ass, buzzcut.”

                Spock raised an eyebrow and said, “Captain, I believe he is referencing Ellie Phimster, another well-known mutant and companion of Mr. Wilson.”

                “Her first name is Ellie?” Wade said, surprised.

                “Yes,” Spock answered. “You and her have a very close bond throughout her life, and you name your first child after her.”

                Wade burst into laughter and said, “Bullshit! I’m nobody’s father now or ever.”

                “The fact remains that—.”

                Jim held up a hand. “Maybe we should stop discussing the future-past right now.”

                “The days of future past sounds like a lame movie of lameness that definitely has nothing at all to do with me,” Wade said. Then he asked, “So how long until this engineer figures out how to beam me back to my time?”

                “Shortly,” Jim said. “Scotty might be a little unpredictable, but he is good at fixing his mistakes.”

                “Good. Great. Wonderful,” Wade grumbled. “How about food? Is that a thing in the future? Because I’m fucking famished.”

                “With your permission, Captain,” Spock said. “I will handle Mr. Wilson’s nutritional needs.”

* * *

 

                “You know, I’ve gotta hand it to you, pointy…” Wade took another bite of his taco, and said, “You really know how to satisfy a guy.”

                “I will assume you are speaking about the food,” Spock said. He and Wade were in Spock’s quarters, and the mercenary had consumed a substantial amount of food in a short time. Spock was somewhat concerned that the replicator would cease working before Wade’s hunger was satisfied.

                Wade finished off his thirteenth taco, and slouched back in his seat. “So tell me, how do you know so much about me?”

                “This ship has an extensive historical archive collection,” Spock answered.

                “So I make it into the history books?” Wade says.

                “Indeed, though in the interest of preserving the timeline, I cannot tell you what role you will play.”

                “That’s nice,” Wade said, his tone not matching the sentiment. Then he said, “Aren’t you fucking up my timeline just by me being here?”

                Spock raised an eyebrow and said, “I have found that there is very little that can disturb history. In fact, there is evidence that you spend a great deal of your life moving through time.”

                “I bet I know why,” Wade said, thinking about Cable and his stupid time stream bullshit.

                Spock stood and asked, “Do you require further sustenance?”

                Wade shook his head. “No. I’m good. Thanks, pointy.”

                “My name is not Pointy,” Spock corrected.

                “Don’t get testy,” Wade chuckled.

                Spock said, “I am incapable of such an emotional response.”

                “Oh bullshit,” Wade said, making Spock look at him. Yes, his face had a very stoic, steady expression, but Wade was pretty sure with a little dedication, he could get that to change. “You were pissed in the doctor’s office.”

                “I was under the influence of pain suppressants, and thus cannot be judged by my actions at that time,” Spock said without passion.

                Wade smirked and said, “But that doctor. I get a vibe that you two sorta have a thing happening.”

                “I am sure I do not know what you mean,” Spock said.

                “All that bickering and jibing,” Wade said. “If that’s not foreplay, then I don’t want shit to do with the future.”

                Spock looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “If that is the case, it explains many things about your past, Mr. Wilson. All of your romantic attachments appear to be of a confrontational nature.”

                “Way to avoid the question,” Wade said with a smirk. “I feel like you’ve been stalking me.”

                “You are a very fascinating figure in history,” Spock said.

                There was a beep and a moment later the door opened and Dr. McCoy entered. Spock looked at him, and Wade could see the subtle change in the Vulcan’s features as he said, “Doctor.”

                “Spock,” McCoy said with a smile on his otherwise permanently pissed off face. “Scotty has the transporter ready to send Mr. Wilson home.”

* * *

 

                Back in the transporter room, Mr. Scott kept his distance from Wade as he prepared the beam. There was some talk about an error generating a transport field and something about experimental whatever-the-fuck. Wade didn’t pay attention. This shit was over his head. Cable would get it, but as luck (or whatever) would have it, Wade was the guy that got picked up by the Enterprise.

                “The important thing is, once you beam down, you’ll be back in your correct time and place,” Scotty explained. “At least, you should be.”

                “And my friends?” Wade asked.

                Spock answered, “The beam will reverse the effects of the time slip, effectively resetting you to where you were before the anomaly occurred.”

                “Well if that isn’t a deus ex machina, I don’t know what is,” Wade said. Then he remembered where he was before the world started shifting around him. He whipped out his katana, making the Enterprise crew visibly startle. He smirked behind the mask. “Don’t be alarmed, but I was kind of in the middle of a giant battle. If we’re resetting, I need to be ready to gut some motherfuckers.”

                McCoy whispered to Spock, “I feel like sending him back is a bad idea.”

                “Without him, the past will be substantially altered. Potentially removing the possibility of the creation of the Federation,” Spock said. “Violent as he may be, he is instrumental in many pivotal moments that lead to peace.”

                “That’s some funny shit, Spock,” Wade said, giving a quick flourish with his swords. “But hey, it’ll give me something to tell my roommate about.”

* * *

 

                When Wade rematerialized, he was back in the same destroyed city surrounded by a bunch of Hydra goons (or evil agents of evil working for some asshole; it’s all very generic really). He hacked and stabbed, and swept through the throng of throwaway henchmen. By the time he was out of bad guys, Colossus was traumatized by all the carnage, Cable was grunting about a weapons malfunction, and Negasonic was tweeting about some fun street art she found after busting the façade off an old building.

                “So none of you remember Stark tower?” Wade said. “I mean, seriously. It was like a giant dick replacement in the middle of the city.”

                Cable shook his head. “I’m picking up no time anomalies, and I’m too tired to discuss your delusions further.”

                “See, Spock said that!” Wade said. “I’m serious. He had pointy ears and green blood, and he said I mattered to the future.”

                Colossus tried to brush the vomit from his shirt. “I do not wish to see the future that you are part of.”

                “I’ll second that,” Cable said.

                Negasonic said, “I can see it happening. I mean, you can’t die so you might as well be useful.”

                “Out of the mouths of babes, right?” Wade said.

                Colossus and Cable ignored him, the big Russian saying, “Come, Negasonic. We must meet professor.”

                “Later, Pool,” Negasonic said.

                As the two of them got into their apparently personal Blackbird, Cable said, “I lied about the time anomaly. I don’t remember anything specifically, but my sensors picked up some interesting readings indicating many hours of travel.”

                “It was a starship, man,” Wade said. He looked at Cable and asked, “You want to grab a beer or something?”

                Cable shrugged. “I guess we have the time.”

                Wade chuckled. “Was that a fucking pun?”

                Cable smirked. It wasn’t a smile, but it was close enough. His face didn't break at all.

 

 

                The End


End file.
